her drawers without her perceiving and restoring it. When the large baskets of clean linen are weekly brought from the laundress, she selects her own garments without hesitation, however widely they may be dispersed among the mass. If any part of her dress requires mending she is prompt and skilful in repairing it, and her perseverance in this branch of economy greatly diminishes the clothing. expense of her Since her residence at the asylum the donations of charitable visitants have been considerable in amount. These are deposited in a box with an inscription, and she has been made to understand that the contents are devoted to her benefit. This box she frequently poises in her hand, and expresses pleasure when it testifies an increase of weight; for she has long since ascertained that money was the medium for the supply of her wants, and attaches to it a proportionable value. Though her habits are peculiarly regular and consistent, yet occasionally some action occurs which it is difficult to explain. One morning, during the past summer, while employed with her needle, she found herself incommoded by the warmth of the sun. She arose, opened the window, closed the blind, and again resumed her work, At the tea table with the whole family, on her sending her cup to be replenished, one was accidentally returned to her which had been used by another person. This she perceived at the moment of taking it into her hand, and pushed it from her with some slight appearance of disgust, as if her sense of propriety had not been regarded. There was not the slightest apparent difference in the cups, and in this instance she seems endowed with a degree of penetration not possessed by those in the full enjoyment of sight. Persons most intimately acquainted with her habits assert that she constantly regards the recurrence of the sabbath, and composes herself to unusual quietness, as if in meditation. Her needlework, from which she will not be debarred on other days, she never attempts to resort to, and this wholly without influence from those around her. Julia Brace leads a life of perfect contentment, and is in this respect both an example and reproof to those who for trifling inconveniences indulge in repining, though surrounded by all the gifts of Providence. The genial influence of spring wakes her lone heart to gladness; and she gathers the first flowers and even the young blades of grass, and inhales their freshness with a delight bordering on transport. Sometimes, when apparently in deep thought, she is observed to burst into laughter, as if her associations of ideas were favorable not only to cheerfulness but to mirth. The society of her female companions at the asylum is soothing to her feelings; and their habitually kind offices, the guiding of their arm in her walks, or the affectionate pressure of their hand, awaken in her demonstrations of gratitude and friendship. Not long since one of the pupils was sick; but it was not supposed that amid the multitude who surrounded her, the blind girl was conscious of the absence of a single individual. A physician was called and the superintendent of the female department, who has acquired great penetration into Julia's character and her modes of communication, made her understand his profession by pressing a finger upon her pulse. She immediately arose; and taking his hand, led him with urgent solicitude of friendship to the side of the invalid, and placing his hand upon her pulse, displayed an affecting confidence in his powers of healing. As she has herself never been sick since early childhood, it is the more surprising that she should so readily comprehend the efficacy and benevolence of the medical profession. It would be easy to relate other remarkable circumstances respecting her; but it is not desirable that this article should be so far extended as to fatigue the reader. MYRA AND SOPHIA. A LITTLE While ago I was paying a visit to a lady who had brought up a large family with much success, and some of whose younger daughters were still living at home; when two young ladies distantly related, but little known to the family, came like myself to pay a long visit, their parents, as I afterwards found, being gone abroad. Not being much accustomed to the care of young people, I discovered little difference between the outward behaviour and appearance of the two sisters, whom I shall call Myra and Sophia, except that there was something more open and communicative in the manners of Sophia than in those of her sister. But, as I afterwards found, my friend saw a little deeper than myself into their characters. Three days after their arrival, my friend's daughters were invited to join a party who were going to visit a celebrated ruin in the neighbourhood, their visitors of course accompanied them; and as the young people were to be in very good hands, the elder part of the family remained at home: the day was fine, and as the party was known to be a very agreeable one, there was no doubt that the excursion would be generally enjoyed. The evening proved delightful, and a full moon supplied the place of day-light, so that my friend and myself had been sitting some time at the supper table, which was plentifully covered with cold meat and currant tarts for a hungry party, when our young folks arrived, most of them full of gaiety and good humour. As soon as bonnets and shawls were laid aside, and we were all seated round our supper table, my friend began to question the young people as to their entertainment, "I shall say nothing to my daughters," said she, "they have so often seen the place; but tell me, my dear Myra and Sophia, what has pleased you best to-day, and how you have enjoyed yourselves?" "We have enjoyed ourselves pretty well," returned Myra, "considering the heat, and our being entirely amongst strangers." do you "Where did you dine?" "Oh, upon the top of a ruined tower," replied Sophia, "where birds had presumed to carry seeds, and they had taken root. It was the sweetest place I ever saw; and you know, ma'am, to us who live in the town, such scenery is delightful beyond description." "Speak for yourself," interrupted Myra, "I like the town better than the country." "And I like the town too," said Sophia, "when I am there I ought to like it; but you know, ma'am, one may enjoy all things that are innocent every where." "Very true," returned my friend, "Well, and what did you see next?" "O such a beautiful Saxon arch," replied Sophia. "And you lost your bracelet" said Myra, "in going to look for that arch, among the nettles." "And stung my fingers in finding it again," said Sophia, "but that did not hurt me, ma'am and in looking for dock leaves to cure my fingers I found such beautiful cowslips." "And you should tell," interrupted one of my friend's daughters, "that you made a very nice sketch of the Saxon arch." "He is "I shall see it to-morrow," said my friend. “And you should tell too," said Myra somewhat scornfully, "what a great cowslip ball you made to throw at a little boy." a sweet child, that little Henry," added Sophia, smiling, "he repeated several hymns as we were walking home, so sweetly." 66 Well, Miss Myra," continued the questioner, "you must now tell me what you were doing while your sister was sketching the arch, and gathering cowslips, and playing at ball with little Henry." 66 Really," answered Myra, "I found it too hot to walk, and I have seen many ruins before, and I have no great taste for getting field flowers, or walking through long grass and nettles, therefore I remained perfectly quiet. It is certainly however a fine ruin." And so she concluded her speech with a consequential air. And here the conversation was concluded by the servants coming in to family prayers, after which we all separated for the night. The next day, when alone with my friend, I said to her, "I suppose you were making the same experiment last night as is related in the little story of 'Eyes and no eyes.'" "Not exactly," she replied, "my experiment had in view more the state of mind than of intellect." "I do not take in your meaning," said I, "how could the remarks of the young people, as to what they had seen, relate to their state of mind?" "Much," said she, "Who are the persons most really capable of enjoying those innocent delights with which the Creator has strewed our earth?" "Those surely," I replied, "who receive them as His gift." "And who" said she, “can claim any blessings, be they ever so small?" "Those only" answered I," who receive it as the gift of love through a Redeemer." "And with what spirit will such persons receive these blessings?" "With humility and thankfulness," I replied. "It is very possible" she proceeded, "that natural cheerfulness and good humour may in many cases appear to produce the same effects as humility and thankfulness. It is frequently so with young people, and I will not say that this may not be the case with Sophia; but I will say that the habitual enjoyment of little blessings very rarely accompanies persons in advanced life who have not correct views of religion. It is true that I have not seen enough of Sophia to be able to ascertain, whether her innocent cheerfulness proceeds from a natural spring, which however sweet will soon be dried up; or whether it comes from the overflowing fount: but can we hesitate whence to trace that dissatisfaction and discontent which marked Myra's account of her excursion, though, do not condemn me as unkind and censorious in what I say of this young person. These sisters are to spend some time with me, and I should wish them to receive benefit from their visit. Upon their first arrival I formed the same opinion of them which their conversation yesterday would naturally lead me to entertain; and it was with a view to assist me in forming some more conclusive opinion that I made use of the little device of asking from them the account of their excursion. I have often gained very considerable knowledge of my children's views and state of mind, by requiring them to give me an account of what had most pleased or displeased them on any particular occasion. I was struck with the ingenuity of myfriend's plan, and I am happy to say that her promising expectations of Sophia were not disappointed. She proved, upon further acquaintance, to be under the influence of that genuine religion, which at once exalts the Saviour, abases the sinner, and leads a fallen creature to receive the commonest blessing of life as a boon, to which he has forfeited all claim, but as purchased again for his people by the love of the Redeemer. Thus she was possessed of that true freedom to enjoy the works of God, which Breaks on the soul by a flash from Heaven, Till thou hast touched them; 'tis the voice of song." |